abdomen before coming to a rest on his chest. They blazed, the heat sinking into him, scorching down his spine, his cock growing even harder.
His cheeks felt hot at the compliment, but thankfully he didn’t have to worry about her seeing it. “You’re beautiful.” He moved so he was back over her, bracing himself on one hand, using the other to smooth back her hair. “I’ve dreamed about kissing these lips.”
“And getting my lipstick all over you,” she said, smiling up at him, her thumb running along his bottom lip. “All because I’m vain.”
“Vain?” he asked, smoothing his palm up her side.
Her skin was silk beneath him. “I can’t live without my lipstick.” A shrug, her ribs moving beneath his palm. “So, yes, vain.”
“Should I tell you that I’ve been dreaming of red lips for months now?”
Her mouth curved. “So, at least vain has a purpose?”
“Yes,” he said, leaning down and dragging his mouth along her jaw, pausing at her earlobe. “But only if I get to taste them again.”
She smiled and tilted her chin up.
And then there were no more words.
His tongue was in her mouth, his lips on hers then, when his lungs protested, trailing them down, stopping to pay homage to her breasts, suckling and nipping and deducing what she liked best—hard, steady pulls on her nipples. Then he was moving down again, across the soft curve of her belly, allowing his tongue to drift along her hips . . . and still down.
Nudging her thighs apart.
Moving in between.
Kissing up one thigh and skipping the part he was desperate to taste, wanting her writhing beneath him. He might not have had a hundred women, might have been a late bloomer and be uneasy with words, but he paid attention. He knew people, could read them.
Could read her.
How her legs trembled when he nipped, how her hands found their way into his hair and tugged when he brought the flat of his tongue up, when he slid it along the outside of her labia, darted it out to taste the sweetly tart folds.
“Fuck,” he groaned. That was good.
Her lips parted on a moan, and she drew him closer, her legs wrapping tight, moisture flooding his mouth. Ben didn’t stop, just continued to figure out all the things she liked—how much pressure, the way he circled his tongue, how he used the flat of it to press against the bundle of nerves. But when he slid a finger inside her damp tightness, she arched beneath him, and when he slid another in, she bucked, his name tumbling from her tongue.
He sucked her clit deep, curved his fingers, and his name became a chant.
“Ben, Ben, Ben—”
The best sound on the planet.
No.
He was wrong. The best sound on the planet happened next. When her body bowed on the mattress, when she ground her pussy against his mouth, when every muscle in her body was tight, straining.
And then she exploded.
A gasp. A long, trailing moan.
She went limp, her pussy clenching around his fingers.
She was beautiful, her color high, her lips swollen, sweat glimmering on her brow, and then those red lips tugged up into a smile, and she crooked a finger at him. “Come inside me.”
He wasn’t done. Not nearly.
He’d had months to plan this. Months to think about everything he wanted to do to her.
But when she smiled at him like that, when she crooked her finger, he knew he couldn’t deny her anything. Reaching for the box of condoms as he slid up her body, Ben tore open the top and took her mouth at the same time. His hands were busy—one on the bed next to her side to not crush her, one on the box—so he couldn’t fend off hers.
Not that he tried very hard, if he was being honest.
Because her hands had slid down his abdomen, slipped beneath the waistband of his underwear, and grasped him tight.
Groaning, he thrust into her hand, into those firm fingers.
“You’re hard,” she whispered. Though the statement was nonsensical—because of course he was hard, he was harder than he’d ever been in his life—the statement sent fire to his cock. He knew it was weeping, that he was seconds away from exploding.
After yanking a condom out of the box, he jerked her hands off him then tore open the packet with his teeth, rolled it down, chucked his underwear to the side, and . . .
Inhaled.
Because he knew that once he was inside that tight, wet heat, he wouldn’t be able to